Thursday, October 27, 2022

Sweet Poison

I fell for his tongue
(sweet poison inked into art),

a satire of love.

I was lost, lost, lost… In lust
(without love)
has no north.

In the chaos of hidden thirsts,
he is madness
(a learned art)
skin, wanting and waiting…


love melts masks.

photo by Georgia de Lotz, on Unsplash

- for Poets and Storytellers United--Friday Writings #50: Sweet!

Thursday, October 20, 2022

Wild (in self-defense)

not-quite Journaling, 44


10/11/2022: Autumn is here. I know the equinox was weeks ago, but… in my wee garden, autumn doesn’t truly arrive until my passion flower blooms her last bloom, gets a haircut, and is transferred to my living room. Funny, how these things work—when I was growing up (in the Dominican Republic), autumn didn’t feel like autumn until the October rice harvest.



10/12/2022: I’m a wild creature of habit… Growing up, I had green bananas, eggs, and ginger tea for breakfast. As a younger adult (before Crohn’s disease and breast cancer did a number on my gut), breakfast was steel cut oats, coffee, and grapefruit leaf tea. Today, I start my day with Greek yogurt with fruits and nuts, coffee, and tangerine leaf tea. The combination is grounding and filling, and the fact that it tastes delicious brings me joy.




“Good people shine brighter in dark times.” ~ Fairy Tale, by Stephen King



The only positive thing about spending 3 days too nauseated (to do much) is that one has time to listen to a 24-hour long audiobook in a day and a bit.



a green strawberry,
my love, waiting for your mouth
to offer its yum



10/19/2022: I wonder if ripe strawberries yearn for the rush of the bite too? Or if they are old enough to understand that some thrills aren’t worth the danger?


10/20/2022: On nights when Nature rains art outside my window, I delight in hot beverages and terrifying stories: reading them, plotting them, writing them, and…



“I blush, I burn, I shudder, while I pen the damnable atrocity.” ~ The Black Cat, by Poe





wild seeds deemed rotten
(when cold hearts fail to see worth),
bloom bright from the grave



I stay wild in self-defense (and because it is extremely cool).



October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, so…
check your boobies—
one of mine tried to kill me.

- for Poets and Storytellers United--Friday Writings #49: Scary Bits
and Thursday 13.